


meet me at the witching hour

by imaginejolls



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, can witches canonically materialize a condom, episode 7 seems to be my favourite, probably never, she rides his dick into the sunrise, when will i stop writing for rarepairs noone's ever even thought of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-29 10:30:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16742311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginejolls/pseuds/imaginejolls
Summary: The Queen of the Feast waltzes through the Spellman front door and leaves Ambrose astonished, hot and definitely bothered.





	meet me at the witching hour

When the Queen of the Feast waltzes through the front door, Ambrose is at first confused, then surprised, and ultimately spellbound.

Prudence is confident and beautiful, in that order. She measures him with a glance and smiles. Having a handsome man like him in the house will surely come in handy. But first, Prudence needs her bath as she tells a rather dumbfounded Sabrina.

 

Prudence knew it would happen - took a little joy from having Sabrina sleep on the floor of her own room and then slipping out of her bed anyway and into the depths of the Spellman house. Finding Ambrose's room is easy enough. There is music coming out of it, muffled by the closed doors. Prudence doesn't knock.

"Ambrose, is it?" she asks in a low voice and thoroughly enjoys the way he starts.

"Yes," he says once he regains his composure. "And you are?"

"Your queen." Prudence smiles, like a predator flashing its teeth before it aims for the kill. She knows that's not what he was asking. She is also almost certain that he knows her name by now. He just wanted her to say it. And Prudence is not in the mood to do what others want her to. No, as the Queen of the Feast, she has power over everyone, and they will do as she pleases. 

“And what does my queen want?” Ambrose asks. His gaze never wavering from her face. 

“You.” 

Prudence can see him swallow, his eyes suddenly glazed over with excitement. 

“On your knees.” 

And on his knees he goes, instantaneously. He is still wearing the revealing vest from when she first saw him. Prudence makes several steps toward him and pushes the garment off his shoulders with ease. It falls to his feet, leaving him topless. 

Prudence leaves her bathrobe hanging over the back of his chair, exposing the black lingerie underneath it. Ambrose waits patiently until she is stood in front of him once again, his head tilted upwards, his breathing quickened. 

“Show me what else can that mouth of yours do, beside talking,” she purrs and sits down on the chair. 

A smirk settles on his lips right before he grabs hold of the chair and leans in between Prudence’s thighs. 

Ambrose noses at her through her underwear first. Takes his time mapping out the territory before he tugs her panties down to her ankles. Prudence sets her legs wide open, inviting, and Ambrose doesn’t waste a moment before diving back in. 

He is eager and diligent in working his tongue through her sodden folds, up down and up again. Flicks the tip of his tongue over her clit skillfully. Prudence cries out then, not caring about staying quiet. She is the damn queen and she will be as loud as she wants. Ambrose hums at that, sending vibrations right through the tenderest part of her body. She anchors herself by grabbing hold of his hair. Her hips start moving against the motions of his tongue and soon her thighs are quivering with suspense. Ambrose holds her on the edge. It seems endless. And suddenly she is coming, a curse spilling from her lips as she falls apart under his hungry mouth.

“Are you pleased, my queen?” he asks, cocky, eyes dark like the night sky looking up at her in mischief.

Prudence nods swiftly. “You did well.” 

Ambrosed smirks, clearly pleased with himself.

“Take me to the bed now.” 

 

She makes him lie down on his back and then straddles his hips. His hands slide up from her thighs over her hips, follow the dip of her waist and finally come to rest at her ribcage. 

“May I…?” Ambrose asks, thumbs stroking by the hem of her bra. “My queen,” he adds then, like an afterthought. 

“Yes.” 

He is swift to take of her bra, sends the garment flying to the floor before he takes her breasts in his hands and downright worships them. 

Prudence is naked now, but Ambrose is still wearing pants, and that simply won’t do. She reaches for the waistband, tugs at it lightly.

“Take these off?” 

It is a command but also a question. A way out in case he doesn’t want to go any further. Prudence may be the queen and as such get what she wants but she isn’t an asshole. But Ambrose wiggles out of his pants willingly. 

There’s a condom underneath his pillow. How obvious. 

Thighs still astride his hips, Prudence rides his dick with smooth, languid movements. His chest is soft beneath her palms. She digs her nails into the skin of his pecs, making him hiss. 

“Good?” she asks, cocking one eyebrow.

Ambrose nods. “More.” 

And more he gets. 

Soon enough he is thrusting up into her frantically, holding her so tightly Prudence thinks it’s going to bruise. (She won’t be complaining.) 

 

She doesn’t sleep in his bed. When they meet in the kitchen during breakfast, the two of them are sporting matching smirks. 

“Sleep well, my queen?” Ambrose asks over a cup of coffee.

“Why, yes, I have,” Prudence smiles and for a moment she resembles a feline sizing up its prey. “Like the dead.” 

He winks at her and saunters away from the kitchen. Prudence thinks she might be visiting him again tonight. Make it a party.

**Author's Note:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 
> 
> this took me like a week to write and i _could_ have expanded on the dick riding but also it's 10pm and i just want to go to sleep.


End file.
